


Everybody Here's Got Somebody to Lean On

by Bluehaven4220



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Morning After, Multiple Orgasms, My First Smut, NSFW, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He all but rushed over to her apartment, not even knocking before he opened the door. He needed her, and, if she was being truthful, she needed him just as much. </p><p>Set just after The Ladies Man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody Here's Got Somebody to Lean On

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my second ever Due South fan fic! Now, to warn you, this got very smutty, very quickly. This is one of my first times writing smut, and I'm very nervous to put this up, and I rated it Explicit just to be safe. But either way I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.

He called her landline from his cell phone, and was there in less than 5 minutes. He had dropped Fraser off and all but raced to her door.

He didn’t expect anything when he went to her apartment that night. Or maybe he did. The Beth Botrelle case had really done him in, and right now he either needed a cigarette, a drink, or a hard fuck. Probably all three, and for one reason or another, Erin Stephens’ name kept ringing in his ears. They’d been friends for years, even before he’d married Stella, and had kept in touch even after his marriage had ended. Driving to her apartment, he didn’t expect much at all. Maybe she’d pour him a drink, let him cry in her lap in he needed, and, if nothing else, he thought perhaps he would find her curled in a chair with a book, as she normally did whenever he happened to come by.

He didn’t always let her know he was coming, which sometimes caused friction whenever he came face to face with her boyfriend (Dustin or Damon, or something starting with a D), but both he and Erin insisted that there was nothing between them. They were simply friends, they repeated each time he came to visit her, and that’s all their relationship would ever be.

Not this time, though.

This time, when he opened the door to the sound of her voice, he found all signs of _him_ gone. She was sitting at the island in her kitchen, her head resting in her hand and a cigarette nestled between her fingers, smoke curling toward the ceiling, a glass of wine sitting just within her reach. She was bent over a well- worn notebook, but he couldn’t see what she’d written from the distance between them.

“Hello Ray,” she pulled on her cigarette, holding the smoke for a few seconds before slowly exhaling, closing her eyes for only a moment. Regaining her focus, he watched as she turned in her chair to face him, and it was then he realized her wardrobe.

Suddenly it was abundantly clear that she had very little, if not nothing underneath the black blazer she’d only buttoned once. Uncrossing her legs, he saw that she’d paired black garter stockings with barely-there panties, high heels, lipstick, and… was that a bra he saw peeking out from the blazer?

He’d never seen her this way, and it made all the blood in his body rush toward his dick.

It took all his strength to keep from pouncing on her.

Sensing he was frozen in place (quite possibly due to shock), she stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray, came toward him, closed and locked the door. Bridging the gap between them, she unzipped his jacket agonizingly slowly, circled behind him, and pulled the jacket from his shoulders.

“I…” he started.

She shushed him, throwing the jacket into the corner. She circled him again, keeping a hand on him. Finding an opening between the buttons on his shirt, she slipped her hand through, smiling at the feeling of her palm against his chest. 

She captured his lips with hers, moving another hand down to the hem of his shirt.

With no words needed, she pulled lightly and freed his shirt from his pants. Once it was easily accessible, she made slow work of the buttons, one by one and agonizingly slowly, placing a kiss down his torso, sometimes over a long healed scar. She then slipped the shirt from his shoulder and had it join the jacket in the corner.

“Erin…” he breathed as her hands when to his belt, hoping to make short work of his pants, leaving him naked in her doorway.

God Almighty, she was going to kill him, and he would die a happy man. 

 _You have to stop this!_ His rational mind screamed at him, attempting to drown out the arousal seeping from every fibre of his being. _She’s not yours! Stop this now!_

He grabbed her hands, made her stand up, his belt still done up.

“It’s not me you want this time,” he insisted, forcing her to look at him.

“Yes it is,” she nodded. “For so long, Ray…”

Gently cupping his face in his hands, it was then he saw it.

There was a definite sadness in her eyes. Something had happened. The man whose name started with a D… he’d done something. He hadn’t hit her, but there was nothing left of him in the house.

Oh!

“Oh Erin,” he breathed, running his thumb under her eye, leaning forward and kissing the stray tear that had started its descent. “I’m so sorry.”

She sighed when he pulled away. “He left me…”

“Shh…” she needed him now as much as he needed her. But why hadn’t she said so? Why hadn’t she called him back and told him she needed him there immediately?

“About a month ago. For another woman,” she managed to tell him without garbling too many of the words. “Said I was getting fat, and no one wants to be with a fat girl.”

Either what’s-his-name was an out and out liar, or just a terrible human being. Ray would take the latter. She measured maybe five feet, six inches tall, with curves. He could lift her off the floor with one arm around her waist if he wanted to. What man in his right mind would consider her fat?

And suddenly, he understood.

The stockings, the heels, the lipstick… they weren’t for him.

They were for her. For her to reclaim her sexuality and sensuality after being so brutally dumped.

“Why me?” he asked, moving a hand to rest on her hip.

“I’ve known you for years, Ray. I knew you wouldn’t judge me if I were to ask,” she whispered, looking at the floor. “It’s all a bit stupid, really, now that I think about it. God, I’m such an _idiot!_ ” she shrugged her shoulders, attempting to cover more skin than the blazer could possibly manage.

She was right. He wouldn’t judge her, not for wanting to feel as though she was beautiful, and least of all while she stood in front of him in some of the sexiest lingerie he’d ever seen her wear, and not while he was without a shirt.

 _Still not yours!_ His mind reeled. _You’re too dangerous; she opened her home to you and you’re damn near drooling._

“You are a gorgeous woman, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a damn liar, ” he whispered as he pushed his reservations out of his head. Kissing her cheek now, trailing his fingers from her hip back up toward her breast. His lips traveled down toward her neck; he nipped her lightly, a thrill of ego when she moaned.

She grabbed the hand that had been dancing over her breast and guided it between her legs.

He gasped when he realized where his hand was resting.

“One night, Ray…” she whispered as he captured her mouth in a soft kiss again, reaching for him through his trousers. “Can you give me one night?”

“Can _you_ give me one night?” he asked in return.

They both nodded, and that’s when his kiss went from soft to demanding, the taste of the cigarette and wine she’d just finished all the more prominent when he nipped her bottom lip. It was heady, mixed with the sharp tang of Shiraz, and longing.

He bent his knees slightly; reaching just underneath her bum and picking her up, making her wrap her legs around his waist and carrying her back toward the bedroom.

It seemed as though she knew something had to be bothering him, for this wasn’t making love. This was a hard, pin each other into the mattress, forget the world existed outside of the bedroom, type of fucking. Especially when he pulled her panties off, trailing kisses down the inside of her thigh, and buried his face between her legs, licking and sucking and moving two fingers in and out of her heat until she screamed, her entire body shaking from pleasure.

He wouldn’t give her any rest, though. Just as soon as she’d been able, he rolled a condom on and turned over, so that she was on top of him. He’d bucked his hips up, allowing her to slide down on him, taking him inch by inch, until she was riding him, hard. She’d gotten a bit greedy then, leaning forward and demanding more kisses.

Not that he cared. He’d give her anything she wanted, so long as she did _that_ again.  

“You look so hot riding me like this,” he growled, his hands on her hips. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“Fuck, Ray,” she moaned back as she bounced. “Please let me... Please?”

He loved it when she begged.

“Not yet,” he growled again, groaning as she gripped him. Using his hands on her hips as leverage, he rolled them over so that he was on top of her, and that’s when they found their rhythm.

“Oh, oh God…” she whispered, her breasts bouncing. “That’s it, Ray.”

The profanities tumbling from her mouth, the way she moaned his name, it was enough to make him lose it.

“A little to the left,” she begged him again.

He corkscrewed his hips, forcing her legs to wrap around him, her heels hammering his back.

“Shit!” she screamed as he felt her muscles squeeze him. “Right there.”

He pumped harder, lost in the feeling of her. Her body, her voice…

Suddenly he couldn’t speak, crying out and spilling himself into her.

Breathing hard, he collapsed on top of her, falling asleep on her breasts.

**ooOoo**

Later, tangled in the bed sheets, she ran her fingers through her best friend’s hair as he laid on top of her. His gloriously soft tresses felt lovely against her heated fingers, his face peaceful as his chest rose and fell with his steady breathing.

He was very solid, she realized, and his weight on top of her just an added bonus. He’d just given her something she’d never be able to repay him for, all because she’d asked.

She hoped she’d been able to help him too.

Sighing, she ran her hands down his back as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes dark through his bangs falling in his face.

“You okay?” he whispered, kissing her lightly.

“Yeah…” she smiled, resting her hands on his back. “And you?”

He nodded, arching his back and stretching. Rolling off of her, he settled beside her in the bed, bringing his arm around her shoulder and allowing her the freedom to rest against him.

Relishing the fact that her entire body felt boneless, she groaned as she curled into him, dancing her fingers across his torso.

“Ray?”

“Hmm?”

“Not that I’m complaining…”

“Uh huh…”

“But that was six times in one night,” she managed. “Last time that happened was with my vibrator.” Might as well be honest, they were already naked. “Want to tell me what this was all about?”

He chuckled, looking over to the wall and back at her. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah I’m serious,” she reached up and stroked his cheek. “You can’t come over here for that and expect that I’m not going to ask you why you suddenly decided to give me the most mind-blowing sex of my life.”

“Can’t friends help each other out?”

“Well sure, but not in that way, not without some sort of explanation,” Erin insisted, kissing his chest. “Now, what’s troubling you?”

He sighed. “You know the Beth Botrelle case?”

“The one in the paper, yeah,” she sat up. “How about I make us some breakfast and you tell me about it? Coffee’s ready anyway.”

Breakfast. Right. This was something new. Having breakfast together after sex implied a new sort of intimacy. If she was going to cook for him, that meant they could be seen as lovers. Toast or cereal, that was fine. It meant they were still friends.

“Mind if I grab a shower first?” he asked as she got out of the bed and pulled on her housecoat.

“Sure, help yourself,” she tied the housecoat closed and went back around to his side of the bed, giving him a few chaste kisses. “And thank you.”

“Ah well, you too,” he answered, watching as she walked back out toward the kitchen.

**ooOoo**

Erin set to pulling coffee mugs from the cupboard and rummaging around the kitchen for some kind of breakfast food. This was Ray. Ray, her best friend Ray, not Ray, her lover, Ray. Cooking breakfast would be a little too intimate, especially after what they’d done the night before.

Toast. Toast would do. There was nothing wrong with coffee and toast for breakfast, maybe a cigarette later if she felt like it.

She had just finished setting the butter dish and jam on the table when Ray emerged from the bathroom dressed in the spare housecoat he knew she kept in the closet, his hair wet from the shower.

“Better?” she asked as she pushed the bread down into the toaster, all the while trying to ignore the fact that he’d wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She reached up and pat his cheek. “Toast should be ready soon.”

He kissed her cheek in response. “Coffee?”

“On the counter,” she answered. “Milk and sugar on the table if you like.”

“Greatness,” he poured himself a mug and sat down just as the toaster popped. “Hey, uh, you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“Uh, no,” she answered as she set a stack of toast on a plate and slowly made her way over to the table. “No you didn’t hurt me. It had just been a while.”

“How long are we talking?”

“Oh…” she shook her head once. “Six, seven weeks? Vibrators can only do so much."

“No argument there,” he dropped a sugar cube into his mug, stirred, and sipped.  “Thanks, though.”

“For what?”

“I certainly didn’t expect you to be sitting in the kitchen in a bra and garter stockings when I came over here.”

“I was already in those,” she answered, picking up a piece of toast and spreading a light layer of jam onto it. “And I didn’t hear you complaining when you pulled them down with your teeth and almost ripped them off.”

He smirked and chuckled, taking his own piece of toast.

“So…” she added milk to her coffee and sipped. “Beth Botrelle?”

And out came the entire story. How he’d been a rookie cop at his first crime scene, and hadn’t had any backup. How he’d found her in the shower and arrested her for her husband’s murder, spending eight years in jail, feeling the needle close to her skin three times before he and Fraser had discovered that her husband had committed suicide, rather than face being indicted in a kick back scheme. One of the senior officers, Sam Franklin, had framed her, and was willing to let her die for a crime she hadn’t committed. And instead of slapping him with a lawsuit, the first thing she did once she was free was hug him and thank him for saving her life.

“So the first thing you did was call me?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he answered. “Couldn’t decide if I needed a cigarette or a drink.”

“Or someone to fuck your brains out,” she finished for him.

He shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame you. I needed the same thing,” Erin admitted, taking another bite of her toast. “Still, you did right, Ray. You saved an innocent woman’s life.”

He nodded, silently staring at his half-eaten piece of toast lying on his plate.

“Hey…” she walked around the table and carefully sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, turning his head and kissing her cheek. “Uh, you got plans for today?”

“None in particular, it's my day off,” she answered, noting the change in his voice. “Have you?”

“I do have a few sick days coming to me…”

“Hmm…” she got off his lap and took his hand. Reaching into her housecoat pocket, she slipped a few more foil packets into his palm before unplugging the coffee maker, and the phone. “I think you should call in, you look like you need to spend the day in bed.”

And with that, she decided she’d give him more than one night, if that was what they both wanted.

Several more nights, in fact.

And soon, Erin found that in bed with Ray Kowalski was her absolute favourite place to be.

Not that either of them were complaining.


End file.
